The League (20 page)

I coasted right up to the clubhouse, locked my bike, and ran inside to get my clubs. I bolted out to the first tee, but to get there, I had to pass the putting green.

Francis was there with a few other guys I didn’t recognize. They were standing in a pack while one of them lined up a putt, brought his club back, and softly tapped the ball toward the hole.

“That looks like money …,” Francis said.

“… in the bank!” they all said together as the ball rolled into the hole.

“Francis!” I called.

Francis told his friends he’d be right back, then came over to me. “What do you want?” he asked.

The easy answer was that I wanted everything to go back to the way it was before I had lied to Francis and ditched him at the movie theater. But I knew I couldn’t just snap my fingers and change the past. Also, I wasn’t even sure I really wanted everything to be exactly the way it was. Francis and I were different, and there was no rule that anyone had to have the same friends forever. That didn’t mean I could just walk away, though. If we were going to go our separate ways, I had to make sure we made peace first.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” I began. “What I did wasn’t cool. I acted like a jerk. I shouldn’t have lied to you, or made you lie for me, and I should have gone to see
I E Two Three-D
with you.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to go to golf camp? I would have understood.”

I had a hard time believing that Francis would have understood, but I didn’t think arguing with him was a good way to show I was sorry. “You’re right,” I said. “I should have come right out and told you. Man to man.”

“Yo, Francis!” I heard his friends yell. “You’re up. Are you coming?”

“So, are we cool?” I asked.

“I don’t know, man,” Francis answered. “Things are kind of different now. I mean, you’re not the only one making new friends.” Francis looked over his shoulder. “I’ll be right there!” he yelled. Then he turned back to me. “Why did you come here?”

“I came to play in the tournament,” I said.

“With who?”

“My dad.”

“Dude, I hate to tell you this, but they teed off like an hour ago.”

That didn’t make sense. He couldn’t be playing alone, and there was no way Aaron would have come with him. “Who was he with?”

“Kate,” Francis explained. “We all watched her hit her first shot. It didn’t go far, but it was straight. She’s got a pretty nice swing.”

“Maybe I’ll just putt with you until they’re done.”

Francis frowned. “I don’t know. I’m kind of here with these guys.”

“Some other time, then,” I said.

“I better go,” he said. “It’s hard to find five tees together. I’ll see you around.” Then he was gone.

I guess I had that coming
, I said to myself when I was all alone. I stood on the edge of the putting green for a minute. I was waiting for something to happen, for Dad to show up and invite me to play with him and Kate, or for Francis to come back and tell me there was an open tee next to his. But that didn’t happen. Hundreds of people passed by, going in all directions, but none of them had anything to say to me. Eventually I returned my bag without ever taking a club out. Then I went home.

The only sign of life in the house was the music pounding against the walls of Aaron’s room. Kate and Dad wouldn’t be home from the golf tournament for another few hours, and Mom was working a long shift at the hospital, probably stitching up people who forgot to throw the firecracker after lighting the fuse. Feeling an urge to tell her how I felt, I decided to write a note.

After leaving the note on the counter, I went next door and rang Evan’s bell.

“Oh, look,” she said, opening the door. “It’s the criminal mastermind.”

“Can we talk?” I asked, trying to show Evan that I wanted to be serious.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one not joking around.

“I’m mad at you,” Evan replied, blocking the doorway. “I wasn’t at first, but then I thought about what could have happened if we’d gotten caught. You know you can be arrested for shoplifting?”

“It was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” I admitted. “Mostly because of what you just said. That’s why I’m here to say I’m sorry. Are we still friends?”

“You’re done lying and stealing?”

“I promise.”

“I don’t want your life of crime, Wyatt.”

“You’ll never see me break another law again.”

Finally, Evan opened the door all the way. Now we were on her front stoop. “Anything else I should know before you’re officially forgiven?”

“Well, you might not see me again for a while.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“Ka-boom,”
I said, making an explosion with my hands. “That’s what.”

“They found out?” Evan asked. “How?”

I told her about the scene in the kitchen and about seeing Francis at the golf club that afternoon. “Now I think I’m gonna be grounded for the rest of the summer.”

“Oh man,” Evan said. “Don’t you get a break for being a first-time offender?”

“I don’t think my parents see it that way.”

“Can you at least go to the fireworks tonight?”

“It doesn’t look good,” I said. “Sentencing is tonight after dinner. I don’t see it ending with me leaving the house.”

“I’ll spring you,” Evan said. “I’ll bring you a cupcake with a key baked inside it.”

That made me laugh. I was going to miss watching the fireworks with Evan. But I knew we’d always be
friends—maybe nothing more, but that was a lot better than ending up like Brian Braun and Ashley, who couldn’t even hang out. I couldn’t handle that. I’d already wrecked one friendship this summer.

“Thanks anyway,” I said. “But I did the crime.”

Evan nodded. “Gotta do the time.”

“Plus, how are you going to bake cupcakes if you’re up on the hill?”

“You’re right,” she said. “I have to get my priorities straight. Tonight is about two things. Fireworks—and fireworks.” Evan kicked my ankle with her bare foot. “I wish you could go, Wyatt.”

Hearing that set fireworks off in my head. It was better than actually being on the hill with her.

“If I climb on my roof, I can see them from here.”

Evan stood up. “Wave to me,” she said.

I waved to her.

“I mean later, dork.”

“I know.”

Evan stopped at the gate. “
Ka-boom
, Wyatt.”

Mom and Dad didn’t just ground me and Aaron. They sentenced us to community service. Of course, by then all the good summer volunteer jobs were taken, so we did the only job we could find: picking up trash in the park.

“I can’t believe we have to do this for another month,” Aaron said one day in August after we’d been volunteering for almost three weeks. “This is worse than school.”

“At least we’re outside,” I said.

We were sitting under the shade of a big-leaf maple tree, taking a break after work on a scorching afternoon.

Aaron wiped his brow with his wrist. “Aren’t there child labor laws against this?”

“I kind of like it,” I said as sweat dripped down my cheek.

“You’re crazy,” Aaron replied.

Maybe I was crazy. But I was also really happy. I’d done things this summer I never thought I could do, and now for the first time in my life, I had blisters, muscles, and a tan.

Too bad it wasn’t from sitting by the pool.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Aaron went on. “The next time I think about lying to Mom and Dad, I’m going to work a lot harder on my cover story.”

“The next time?” I asked. “You’d do it again after this?” Aaron had been complaining since our first day.

“If I had to,” he said. “Wouldn’t you?”

“No way,” I said, bouncing to my feet despite the heat and hard work. “I’m not cut out for it.” Taking a swig from my water bottle, I pointed to the bathroom and told Aaron I’d see him at home.

The fields all around me were filled with kids at soccer camp and people playing Frisbee or lying in the sun. I smiled as I thought about how I’d be coming back to these fields in a few weeks—for football tryouts. Mom and Dad had signed all the permission forms just last week. Mom still didn’t like it, but
taking me to the sporting goods store to buy protective gear for every part of my body seemed to make her feel a little better.

I was rounding the back of the rec center on my way to the bathrooms when I heard a familiar voice.

“What’s your problem, Spencer?”

“My problem is that I want some chips but I left my wallet at home.”

Turning the corner, I found Francis looking up at Spencer Randle and holding a golf club. He liked to come to the field to practice with his wedge since it was closer than the driving range at the golf course.

“So go home and get it,” Francis told Spencer, his voice trembling as he clutched the iron golf club in his right hand.

“Why should I go all the way home when I can just borrow the money from you?” Spencer asked, taking a step toward Francis.

Francis and Spencer were so focused on each other they hadn’t noticed I was watching them. I looked around to see who else was nearby, but we were alone, blocked from view by the rec center. If anyone was going to stop what was about to happen, it was me.

I knew if I marched up to Spencer and told him to leave Francis alone, he would. But I had a feeling Francis wanted to fight his own fight.

“You want my money?” Francis asked, lifting the
club. “Come and get it. But I should warn you. I can drive a golf ball two hundred yards in the air. If I can do that, imagine what I could do to your face.”

Holding up his hands, Spencer backed away. Suddenly I wasn’t sure who to fight for. The League of Pain had given me the toughness to stand up for myself. After being hit like I had been, there wasn’t much left to be afraid of. But the League of Pain also taught me that there could be more to other people too—and that there was more to proving myself than toughness. I decided I was going to end this business with Spencer once and for all, my way.

“What’s going on?” I said innocently, coming quickly toward Spencer and Francis.

Spencer gave me a strange look. “Parker,” he said. “What’s up, man?”

“What’s up is that you’re messing with my friend,” I said, standing next to Francis. “And you need to stop.”

“Wyatt, I don’t need your help,” Francis said.

“I know,” I said. “But Spencer does.”

“I do?”

“Yes,” I said. “If I hadn’t walked by, you’d be picking your teeth out of a golf ball right now. And you’re ugly enough with teeth.”

“At least I don’t have to stand on a dictionary to drink from the fountain,” Spencer replied.

That cracked us both up.

“Wait a second,” Francis said, looking at Spencer and pausing like he was trying to wrap his head around what was happening. “You know what a dictionary is?”

I wasn’t sure how this would all turn out. I didn’t think Spencer, Francis, and I were about to become best friends. I just had a feeling that asking for money was Spencer’s messed-up way of trying to make friends. That didn’t make anything he had already done right, but if I could survive the League of Pain, maybe Spencer could make it as something besides a bully. After all, like it or not, even if we weren’t best friends, we all had to survive high school together. Figuring now was a pretty good time to make peace, I suggested the only thing I could think of.

“So, you guys want to go for a corn dog?”